A Piece of the Puzzle
by Midna3452
Summary: Many events that seem mundane at the time may, in fact, have a much greater meaning than one would anticipate. A Oneshot from early in the FNAF timeline.


**A/N: The fanfic came about from a one-word prompt, "Swift." It takes place within the current FNAF universe, where Sister Location, and everything related to it, exists. This is my take on one of countless events that could have happened before everything went wrong.**

* * *

 **A Piece of the Puzzle**

 _"Move swiftly, or you'll never get out alive!"_

The instruction played over and over in the boy's mind as he frantically mashed the buttons on the game console. The flashing lights and overly-loud music of the machine didn't deter him from his mission: to get his 8-bit character out of the dungeon they were trapped inside and escape the horde of zombies chasing behind.

At age ten, the boy already considered himself a master at the game. Being family friends with the owners of the Freddy Fazbear Franchise certainly had its perks- one of them being an all-access pass to the restaurant. Thus, the boy spent most of his free weekends in the Game Room, hunched over a bright screen and trying desperately to beat the high score in every machine available. He had been working on this particular game for the past month, and he felt like today was going to be the day.

 _"No!"_ he screeched, watching his last piece of life drain away as his on-screen character was grabbed by a wayward zombie. He muttered something under his breath that a ten-year-old should certainly not have said, smacking the top of the machine as the title screen blasted its theme song.

"Hey, be gentle with the equipment," a low voice said, causing the boy to jump and whip around. A man stood in the doorway, eerily backlit by the hall light. The boy could just make out a mildly condescending frown twisting his face downwards.

"Sorry, Mr. Afton," the child responded, hanging his head in both apology and uneasiness. Though he had known this man his whole life, recently the boy felt that there was something _off_ about him. He used to be calm and collected, but after "the accident," as everyone referred to it, he would occasionally drift off in his own world. When he came back to reality, there was a look in his eyes that put the child's nerves on edge. However, the young boy's parents seemed to think the man was perfectly harmless, so he was forced to feel the same way.

"It's alright," Mr. Afton said, a strong British accent distorting his words in a way that still entertained the child after all these years. The man smiled and fully stepped into the room, making the young boy's eyes dart towards the open doorway. He no longer cared about the high score; that could wait until another day. He just wanted to go to space that wasn't quite as secluded.

"Er... I think my mom told me to find her after I finished playing, and I just lost, so..." The boy took a step towards the door. Mr. Afton shifted, following his movements, though not in a threatening manner.

"Well, you can't argue with your mother, I suppose," he chuckled, then raised an eyebrow. "Before you go, though, I wanted to ask you something: are you planning to come back next weekend?"

"Um... yeah?" The boy frowned, trying to recall if his mother had explicitly stated their plans. "I mean, we usually come every week, so I think we're doing the same thing this time."

"...You should stay home." Suddenly, Mr. Afton's tone was unnaturally serious. The boy felt a small chill run up his spine.

"...Why?" he asked.

"We're going to be extremely busy next weekend and I'd hate for you to be unable to enjoy yourself." The older man attempted a smile, but it seemed rather forced. "There are going to be a _lot_ of parties, and big ones at that. Even Freddy won't get that much of a break, and think that you would be much happier spending time at home where it's less chaotic."

The boy remained silent for a moment, wondering why Mr. Afton was _so_ insistent. Still, being a relatively good child, he decided it was for his benefit not to argue. With a nonchalant shrug, he said, "Okay. I'll tell my mom."

"Excellent, thank you." For a moment, the man's eyes seemed to soften, his expression not unlike when he watched his own children having fun in the establishment he had created with nothing but a dream and a desire to accomplish it. It was a look that he had not worn in a long time- not since his son met an unfortunate end with one of these so-lovingly-created animatronics.

"Uh... Mr. Afton?" the boy questioned. The man blinked, coming back to his senses with another chuckle.

"Sorry, just lost in thought. You should go see your mother." He gestured to the door, and the boy took this as a blissful sign to leave. As his foot went over the threshold, Mr. Afton called out one last thing. "I... I'm glad that I got to know you and your family, Mikey. And please, always be good to your parents- you'll never know just how much you mean to them until it's too late."

The boy turned around, utterly confused as to what brought on such a strange piece of advice. However, Mr. Afton said no more- he merely waved the child away and turned to face one of the gaming consoles. As the boy exited the room and ran towards the main Party Area, he could swear he heard the man sobbing softly behind him.

* * *

Seven days later, a media frenzy broke throughout the town. An entire group of children went missing while having a birthday party at Fazbear's, as well as one of the owners of the establishment himself- Mr. William Afton. No one's body was ever recovered, and this mystery plagued the town for years to come.

It wasn't until about twenty years later that little Mikey Schmidt found out what actually happened... and came to terms with the fact that, really, he had known the truth all along.


End file.
